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User blog:Squibstress/A Slant-Told Tale - Chapter 3
Title: A Slant-Told Tale Author: Squibstress Rating: MA Genre: Drama, romance Warning/s: Explicit sexual content; violence; abuse; alcoholism Published: 23/05/2017 Disclaimer: All characters, settings and other elements from the Harry Potter franchise belong to J. K. Rowling. Chapter Three 3 June 1944 Minerva’s preternatural calm was unnerving. If Albus hadn’t known better, he would have sworn he was more anxious than she was about what they were about to do. She had arrived precisely one half hour after he had left the Great Hall after dinner, and she had knocked as briskly as ever on his office door. Her “Good evening, Professor” was as normal and businesslike as it had always been. When he showed her into his quarters, she took in the crackling fire, the bottle of wine, and the dim lighting without comment. “I thought a bit of wine wouldn’t go amiss,” he said. “That’s very thoughtful, Professor, thank you,” she replied. “I think, Minerva, that just for this evening, I’d like you to call me by my given name.” “All right, Albus.” He poured the wine and handed her a glass. They raised no toast, neither one being certain of what they should be celebrating. They sat in front of the fire, drinking the wine, and chatting amiably about everything but the topic that was foremost in his mind. When Minerva had finished her wine, Albus carefully took the glass from her hand and Banished it. He clasped her hands and remarked, “Your hands are like ice.” Bringing them up to his face, he gently blew on them. “Was that a charm?” she asked. “Yes, a Warming Charm.” “You did that with just your breath?” “Yes.” “You’ll have to teach me that trick someday, Pro— Albus.” “If you like,” he replied, still holding her hands in his. He drew her closer, wrapped his arms around her, and leant in to press his mouth to hers. It took a few moments before she began to respond to his kiss by moving her own lips along with his. He drew his head back and asked, “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” “Yes.” So he continued kissing her and eased her back until she was half lying on the settee, beginning to stroke her cheek and neck as they kissed. Kissing her like this was pleasant enough, but he had the feeling that she was far away; her responses seemed more rote than anything else, and it disturbed him. He harboured no illusions that she was aching with want of him, or that he was a lover to induce swoons in young women—or young men, for that matter—but he wanted to give her pleasure. If it turned out that Gerald Macnair was a dud in bed—or worse—Albus hoped that at least this time, she could experience the kind of delight that an attentive lover could bring. He wanted to show her what it could be like, and to perhaps help her to understand what kinds of things gave her pleasure, in the hope that she might be able to lead Macnair to provide it for her. He moved his lips to her neck and placed a hand deliberately on her chest, just above the gentle swell of her bosom. He was encouraged when her hands gripped his shoulders a bit tighter, so he moved his hand to cup her breast and was rewarded with her slight intake of breath. Her barely audible gasp—the first real sign of enjoyment she had given—made him want to explore what other kinds of touches might elicit another. He caressed her for another minute, and when she brought her leg up to wrap around him, he allowed his body to press against hers for the first time. He closed his eyes and imagined other bodies, other lovers, and the first stirring of his arousal began to announce itself. She didn’t react, although he was certain she could feel it. He interrupted his ministrations to her neck and breasts to ask, “Shall we adjourn to the bedroom?” He didn’t want to rush, but he thought he should move things forward while he was still aroused. If he waited too long or thought too much about it, the evening was quite likely to end in disappointment for Minerva and embarrassment for him. “Yes, let’s,” she said, sounding slightly out of breath, he was pleased to note. When the bedroom door was closed behind them, he asked, “Have you ever seen a man, Minerva?” “You mean naked? No. Not in the flesh,” she answered. “I … I’d like to see you.” “Your wish is my command, my dear,” he said as he began to unbutton his outer robe. When he had removed his robes and undershorts, it took a few moments before Minerva allowed her gaze to wander south of his face. He saw her blink a few times, so he asked, “Would you prefer I cover up again?” “No … it’s just …” she dropped her head, and he was alarmed for a moment, until he realised the shaking of her shoulders was caused by laughter. “Well, I must say, it’s never garnered quite that response before.” She looked up, eyes tearing, and said, “Oh, no, Prof— Albus … it’s not that … it’s just … the oddness of all this.” He laughed a little too, then. “It is rather surreal, isn’t it?” “That’s a good word for it.” After a few moments, she said, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh, and certainly not at you.” “It’s quite all right, my dear. I’m glad we can find some humour in this.” he said. “Seriously, though; would you prefer we forget about this? We can stop now and say no more about it, if you wish.” “No, I want to go through with it.” She smiled and added, “And it looks as though you do, too,” nodding at his midsection. “I have no defence,” he said, grinning back at her. Turning serious, she said, “Will you kiss me again? I rather enjoyed that.” He stepped toward her and drew her into his arms, kissing her gently as she ran her hands up and down his now-bare back. It felt very good. Not too fast, man, he reminded himself as his arousal grew. The point is to give her pleasure. He undressed her slowly, kissing and caressing as he went. When her clothes lay on the floor, he returned to kissing her, gently moving their bodies closer together. One of her hands slid tentatively down to touch him with her fingertips. She broke the kiss to look at his face, asking, “Is this all right?” “More than all right, Minerva,” he whispered. “More than all right.” She wasn’t applying much pressure, but he thought he had better move things along if he wanted to last long enough to accomplish the evening’s goal. It had been a very long time since anyone else had touched him there. He stilled her hand with his own and said, “Let’s lie down.” She moved to the bed and reclined on it, knees demurely together and turned to one side. He joined her and said, “I’d like to do some things now … to give you pleasure. Would that be all right?” He tended to her with a remembered gentleness, touching and kissing until she was mewling with delight, which excited him. When the crucial moment arrived, he asked, “Do you need me to cast a contraceptive charm?” “No, I took a potion,” she replied. She was quiet, after an initial gasp, and he tried not to be too rough or too vocal, but it had been a very long time, and when he came back to himself, he wasn’t sure if he’d managed it. When his euphoria faded, he kissed her lips briefly before rolling carefully off of her. He shifted so he was facing her and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” “No. Well, a little … but it couldn’t be helped. It wasn’t nearly as terrible as some of the girls say,” she replied. “Thank you.” “No thanks necessary, my dear Minerva. I just hope we’ve achieved what you hoped for.” “Oh, yes. That, and more. I didn’t expect … what you did before.” “Did you enjoy it?” he enquired. “Yes,” she said with a laugh. “Couldn’t you tell?” “Well, I hoped,” he said. They lay there in silence for a while, and then she said, “I think I’d best be going before it gets too late and someone misses me.” It came as a relief to him that she was eager to leave. “Yes, you’re probably right. Do you want to use my bath to freshen up?” “Yes, please.” When she emerged ten minutes later and came into the sitting room where he was reading last week’s Transfiguration Today, he stood, and she said, “I cannot thank you enough, Professor.” “There is no need to thank me, Minerva,” he answered. “I don’t suppose you would want to repeat this tomorrow evening, or the next? I wouldn’t mind a bit more experience before … well, before turning myself over to Gerald.” Oh, dear. “No, Minerva, as tempting as it is, I don’t think it would be wise. But if you will wait a moment, I will jot down a spell that you might find useful.” He went to his desk, took up a quill, and wrote a few lines on a piece of parchment, which he handed to Minerva. “You’ll see it’s quite a simple charm, but you may wish to practice it before your wedding night, if you believe you will not be … anxious for intimate activity. It is helpful to be able to do it wandlessly and wordlessly.” Looking up from the parchment, Minerva said, “Thank you, Professor. This was … it was more enjoyable than I anticipated. You were very kind, and I appreciate it.” “Oh, Minerva. It is easy to be kind to you, and it was easy to make love to you. You are lovely and astonishing,” he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek. “Thank you, sir,” she said again, folding the parchment he had given her and putting it in the pocket of her cardigan. “Goodnight, then.” “Goodnight, my dear. Sleep well.” Well, that had gone a bit better than he had anticipated. He had agreed to her proposal out of a genuine desire to help Minerva; he knew there were many who wouldn’t believe that, but no one who knew him well could have accused him of having had sexual designs on the girl. He knew she had been manipulating him when she was trying to persuade him to agree—and one old manipulator should recognise another, he thought with a chuckle—but her reasoning had been sound enough. Albus honestly didn’t really recall Gerald Macnair very clearly, but if what he knew of the elder Macnairs was any indication, Minerva was right to be concerned about his behaviour in the bedroom. She had said she didn’t believe he would deliberately hurt her, and Albus thought her judgment was probably sound, but then again, she didn’t have much experience in the peculiarities of men’s sexual proclivities. And “peculiar” didn’t begin to describe the Macnair men. Albus had objected to putting Finn Macnair away without benefit of trial, but the nature of the man’s crimes had made him heave a sigh of relief on behalf of Knockturn Alley’s prostitutes when the lunatic had been shut away for good. And although it had been before Albus’s time, the rumours he had heard of the late Kenneth Walden Macnair gave Albus a suspicion about where Finn had acquired the skills for his bloody hobby. He knew for a fact that the elder Macnair had been targeted for “removal” in late 1888 after the Muggle prime minister had called an almost unheard-of emergency meeting with his wizarding counterpart. Moreover, the current Kenneth Macnair had once been called on the carpet by the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for his treatment of his house-elves—a thing that was notable for its rarity; usually everyone turned a conveniently blind eye to house-elf abuse, so Macnair’s behaviour must have been especially impressive. Albus had discovered this when he made a quick investigation of Minerva’s husband-to-be after reading of the betrothal. His queries had turned up nothing on Gerald Macnair himself, fortunately. He didn’t know if, or how much, Minerva knew of the Macnair family history, but he thought it was prudent of her in any case to want to deal with her virginity before Gerald Macnair got his hands on her. Even if he wasn’t as perverted as his father, uncle, and grandfather, the young man was probably as inexperienced as Minerva, and it was highly unlikely his father had given him any advice on making a virgin more comfortable on her wedding night. And their tryst had been more pleasant than he had expected. He had thought he might need the aid of a few discreet charms to accomplish their goal, but in the end, he had been aroused enough. Will wonders never cease? He wasn’t worried that Minerva would tell anyone about what they had done, but he was concerned about fostering any romantic feelings in the girl—feelings he could not reciprocate and that would only make things harder for her once she was married. That, as much as anything else, was why he had demurred when she suggested a second go. Still, all things considered, he was glad to have been able to help her, even if only in this small way. ← Back to Chapter 2 On to Chapter 4→ Chapters of Slant-Told Tale, A